by Theodore R. Frimet

but not a drop to drink

More than two years ago, when I first became interested in Amateur Astronomy, a co-worker and I were vying to figure out where all the Earth bound water had come from. By the end our of conversations we (or perhaps by now – only I, due to a fractal memory), decided that there would be little or no chance of the high number of comets required to impact Terra Firma and produce our oceans, and lakes. Two years later, there is a geology read for me to discover.

And the latest read, based on the coat-tails of a recommended tome by Rex, (Allegres’ From Stone to Star, A View of Modern Geology), has me thinking of just where all the water has come from. Ah, once again – a good question will yield to an answer that will probably not have me at its Genesis. What the heck, let’s strike the rock twice with our staff?

I read about the homogeneous versus the heterogeneous theories of Earth composing itself, in an Accretion Theory. And decided that water, as in H2-plenty was Well within the grasps of our early crust, mantle and core. H2O, being less dense than the material that surrounded it, as is here-to-fore told in both theories, rose from its rock-bed repose.

In the few pages that preceded my recent read, I rediscovered that the densities of iron, lodes of it beneath our feet, vary according to the pressure that this element is being exposed to. I recall that the density will vary from 11 to 13 grams per cubic centimeter. Lots of pressure will yield a greater density. Made plenty of sense to me. What about meteors?

The meteorites that are iron based have measured densities, and are iron and nickel rich. Blasted from the core of distant planets, and small bodies, we get the instinctual premise that measuring the density of said visitor, will yield the pressures that were imposed upon it prior to its departure point. And by a brief thought process, we can deduce the size of the birthing planetoid. Teaser. Higher iron density will reveal more massive planets.

Unfortunately for me, this doesn’t pair well with the very primitive meteorites that were carbonaceous and brought water to Earth. I was hoping to pin the tail on the donkey, and be finished with this essay, having said that meteors brought us all our earth borne water. No cheating, you say? Ok. Comets you say? Nay-sayer! My coworker, and some very fine sane amateur astronomers all agreed that there could not have been sufficient impacts to account for all of the water. Enter the Giant Impact Hypothesis.

Theia, (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theia_(planet) accessed Saturday May 25, 2019 9:54 AM), was an ancient planet that slam dunked our home world. This colossus of impacts shewn off a rather big tear of both participants – leaving a ring of dust, or perhaps two smaller moons, that would eventually coalesce into our Luna. And happy be the amateur to further participate in this hypothesis of the less mad, and suggest that, Theia, and our previous incarnation of what was our proto-typical planet, brought the lions share of water.

One of my latest forays into metaphysics briefly entangled me with a Divinity student, via an American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) Member Community discourse. It was brief, to be sure. In his search for the presence of a Calabi-Yau geometry manifold, to hide Eden from our view, he may have unhinged me entirely. Mad! Mad, I say. The monkeys be damned – here it is:

The Universe expands, as do the D-Brane vibrations that compose her. Within her sullen sheets of creation, lay the bisected Calabi-Yau manifold. And as the manifold expands, therein lay dimensions where we find water, water, everywhere! But not a drop to drink. As is Eden hidden from our view, our most creative scientific thoughts of water and its Genesis, continues to be hidden in the best hypothesis offered, herein. Hardly a good theory to be found. Yes, Dear Liza. There is a hole in the bucket.